Alumni share memories of Miller Chapel
I stepped foot on the Anderson University campus as a student back in 1977. I had been coming to Anderson University since I was young and my family attended camp meeting or with our youth group for homecomings. There was never any doubt that Anderson was where I wanted to spend my college days. The Miller Chapel brings back wonderful warm memories.
In 1975, my parents were killed in a plane accident and the college contacted our family and to say that they were dedicating the stained glass window in the chapel to my parents. I remember making the drive with my brothers and sister to the dedication ceremony. While I was a student at Anderson, there were many times that I found myself in the chapel in prayer or just needing comfort. It always gave me such a special feeling to open those double doors and sit and look at that beautiful window. Even though my parents were not with me physically, I always felt like they were with me in spirit. My years at Anderson were wonderful and to this day I still have a picture of the window sitting on my desk at work. When I need to refocus, that is what I center on. Anderson University, thank you for such wonderful memories. — Patti Willhardt BA ’81, AA ’81
It was the first seminary chapel service of the 1985 fall semester. Within the last few days, my wife, my two daughters, and I had all made the move to Anderson so that I could enter seminary. I had resigned my position as an associate pastor. Our house had sold after being on the market for only three days. A nice rental house had been obtained. My wife had found a job that allowed her to work and still be at home when our daughters came home from school. All had seemed to fall into place in a manner that we took to suggest God’s grace was at work.
And now, in the first chapel service of the semester, I had taken my place in a pew next to the wall in Miller Chapel. As I sat there and we began to sing a hymn of faith, I was overwhelmed with the emotion of the transition that had taken place in the life of my family over those last few days. I recalled the goodness of God, the love of my local church, the encouragement of my senior pastor, the support of my wonderful wife. I thought about my daughters and the transition to the new schools that they were making. And then I questioned: Have I done the right thing? All of the emotion fell down upon me as I sat in Miller Chapel. And I began to weep. Miller Chapel was that place where, at that moment, on the first day of seminary, 1985, I sensed the emotion of this life transition. It was a moment I still feel when I think about it.
On that morning, Dean Jerry Grubbs was the preacher. Though I do not remember all that he said, I do remember that he challenged us to understand that there is joy in the journey. I understood him to be reminding me that I should not get so caught up in looking to the end of the journey, the degree, or the completion of the seminary years that I fail to appreciate and savor the trip that would take me to the journey’s end. As I think back, with memory fading, perhaps it is not what Dean Grubbs was saying at all, but that is what I remember hearing as I sat next to the wall in Miller Chapel on the first day of seminary year 1985.
Over the next couple of years, there were some very encouraging chapel worship services in Miller Chapel. They enriched my life as we worshipped in that intimate setting. But I will always remember that first chapel of my seminary experience and I will be forever thankful to those who made it possible for me (and many others) to have such memories in Miller Chapel. —The Rev. Steven P. Hency BA ’77, MA ’87
One day I was walking in the Valley. The day was one in which I found myself in deep thought and with a meditating spirit. As I approached the School of Theology I thought to go inside and just pray. I would do this from time to time, and on this occasion, like many others, I was the only person in the Chapel. I loved that time — it was so peaceful and I always felt at home there. As I sat and prayed, I chose to write the following words. Later the work would be named
“A Nautical Prayer”
Dear God
You are my anchor
You are my compass
You are my wind –
I am your ship
With torn sails
A weak vessel
A desperate sailor with no crew
God grant me this day
And your smooth winds
With the warmth of your love
To sail where you lead
Help me to know where Thy compass is pointing
Dear God I pray
I am in Your Ocean
In Your hands
You must be in my heart
I’ll sail for You God I am Your Ship.
—By Alex (Aleq) Boyle AA’87
